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ORATION 



DkLIVERED 



ON THE OCCASION OF THE REINTERMENT OF THE REMAINS 



GENERAL H tJ G H MERC E R 



S'he St. ^ntjrrto'^s ant? ^Ttifstle ^SocfnirB, 



BY WILLIAM B. REED, 



Thursday, JVovembei- 26///, 1840, 



t/7 Philadelphia: 

FROM THK PRES:J OF A. WALDIE, 46 CARPENTER ST. 

1840. 



jtY": 






Gen. Merckr was elected a member of ihe St. Andrew's 
Society of Philadelphia, in 1757. 



ORATION 



It was the pious enthusiasm of a Scottish pilgrim 
to revisit the graves of his country's martyrs, and 
freshen the record of their virtues, their suffering 
and glorious deaths. His pilgrimage was from 
churchyard to churchyard, and when his eye rest- 
ed on the fading memorials of those who had 
virtuously li\ed and bravely died, his humble in- 
dustry was ready to stop the progress of decay, and 
trace anew the epitaphs of the dead. 

In a spirit not less reverential have we here as- 
sembled — Scotsmen, and the sons of Scotsmen, 
American citizens by adoption, and the children of 
those who have mads America their adopted home, 



have this day ninted to do honour to the memory 
of an illustrious man, who, coming hither a fugitive 
from persecution, found a welcome, and repaid that 
welcome with his blood, freely shed, in defence of 
the rights of those amongst whom he had found a 
refuge. To this high purpose is this solemn page- 
antry devoted. It is no vain pomp or idle cere- 
mony ; it is the tribute of the grateful living to the 
honoured dead. And are there, in the heart of 
man, impulses more pure than those which prompt 
him sometimes to turn aside from the excitement 
of a busy day, and lead him in meditation to the 
graves of those who rest in indisputed honour? Is 
there in the heart of the American people a princi- 
ple more truly conservative than that which makes 
all bow with instinctive reverence at the shrine of 
the Revolution, and brings all, as we have come to- 
day, to the tombs of the revolutionary dead, with- 
out distinction of nativity, of sect, or party, to join 
there in sad and affectionate communion ? These 
graves, however distant, are in no foreign soil. 
The earth where these hallowed bones repose is the 
Mother Earth of the Nation. And there is grow- 
ing? from the graves of the Revolution a beautiful 
creeping plant which clings closely, and spreads 
widely, over a united land. 



There is another high impulse in action here. 
This land, from its earliest settlement, has been a 
land of free and honourable refuge. Hither have 
come the fugitives from religious and political op- 
pression — hither have come the enterprising of all 
lands, — the superfluous industry which pines away 
upon exhausted soil, — and here has the fugitive 
found protection, and enterprise its due reward. 
Could the history of transatlantic emigration be 
faithfully written, — if some true record could be 
kept of the sentiments, the opinions and impulses 
of the thousands and the tens of thousands who, 
in search of a new home, have crossed the ocean, 
it would have an interest beyond the fascination 
of romance. It would tell of many an agonised 
and many a grateful heart, of separation from 
the scenes and companionship of nativity, and 
of new sympathies in a strange land. It would 
tell of that sentiment which the mere recollec- 
tion of common nativity can produce, which 
ripens into noble charities for the friendless stran- 
ger, and now brings us to the grave of one on 
whose birth and boyhood the same sun shone 
that gave light to ours. 

Hugh Mercer was born near Aberdeen, in the 
north of Scotland, about the year 1723. He died 



V on an American lield of battle, on the 3d January, 
' 1777. The record of his life, rich in incidents of 
heroism, it is my purpose here to unfold. 

Less than one hundred years ago, the British 
Empire had a wide and peaceful sovereignty. Its 
metropolitan and colonial authority was secure and 
undisputed. The fruits of a revolution, which had 
changed the tenure of the sovereign and ascertain- 
ed the rights of the subject, were realised in new 
limits to prerogative, new security to Parliament, 
new impulse to industry, and new protection to the 
people. The sober reason of the British nation 
approved the administration of the government. 
But between this sober judgment, with all the 
strength which gratitude for these blessings gave 
it, and the affections of the people, there was still a 
struggle ; and the naturalised princes of the house 
of Brunswick, whom the revolution had placed 
upon the throne, from time to time were made to 
realise that sympathy for a family of exiled native 
princes was lurking in the bosoms of their subjects. 
In Scotland, bound to England by what was then 
thought an unnatural union, these sympathies were 
most active, and the memory of her native princes, 
loyalty to the name of Stuart — the sight of her de- 
serted palaces — her bl^ried crown and sceptre, were 



cherished in the Scottish heart with devotion thai 
burned not the less intensely because it burned in 
secret. There was scarcely a Highland dell or 
Lowland castle, where there were not secret wor- 
shippers kneeling in proud devotion at this empty 
shrine. 

On the 19th July, ninety-five years ago, a small 
armed vessel appeared off the coast of Moid art. It 
came to anchor, and there landed on the Scottish 
shores a young and gallant Prince. He came 
to claim what he proudly called his own, and he 
claimed it through the affections of loyal Scot- 
land. The banner which Charles Edward unfurled 
to an astonished people on the hills of Glenfinnan 
on the 19th Aug-ust, '45, was an emblem from 
which adversity had purged the stains with which 
an ancestry of tyrants had disfigured it; and to the 
forgiving eye of loyal enthusiasm it seemed to float 
in the light of brighter and better days, the sun- 
shine which the new dominion was to shed on 
darkened and oppressed Scotland. 

It is easy for what is called the enlightened intel- 
ligence of this day, to look back with contemptu- 
ous pity on the enthusiasm which promoted and 
sustained this wild attempt; but who in the pride of 
historical presumption, — the insolence of doubt, will 



8 

question the trne chivalry and romantic patriotism 
of the man)^ gallant men, who, either without paus- 
ing to consider, or in defiance of their better judg- 
ment, espoused Charles Edward's cause, and ha- 
zarded their lives, — for the dread penalties of treason 
hung over all, the high and the low, the chieftain 
and the clansman, who shared in the bold effort of 
desperate enthusiasm. The brief history of this 
enterprise, the invading march, the sullen retreat, 
its young leader's rapid alternations of hope, of con- 
fidence and despair, justified by his miraculous vic- 
tories and his bloody reverses, need not here be told. 
It is part of Scotland's household history, and is 
embalmed in the brightest and most beautiful fic- 
tion of Scotland's master mind. 

On the night of the 15th April, 1746, two gallant 
armies were stretched in uneasy slumber on the 
moors of Culloden ; the one the remnant of those 
enthusiasts, who in a cause which their gallantry 
ennobled had carried terror to the centre of the 
Empire ; the other a well disciplined, well appointed 
army, led to sure victory by an experienced leader, 
and restless to wash away the discredit which fre- 
quent defeat had thrown upon them. On either side 
of that array was more than one brave man, who 
was destined to shed his blood in other conflicts 



and on a distant soil. In the British army was Sir 
Peter Halket, who perished in Braddock's defeat 
on the banks of the Monongahela. Marching to 
the Pretender's standard w^as the young Master of 
Lovat, afterwards Major General Fraser, who now 
rests in an unknown grave on the heights of Sara- 
toga. At the head of one of the English regiments 
was Colonel James Wolfe, the hero of Louisburg 
and Quebec — and by one of the Highland watch- 
fires in Charles Edward's camp there lay a strip- 
ling of tv/enty-three years of age — a youth who 
had left the peaceful occupation in which he was 
educated, to serve a bloody apprenticeship in the 
rebel cause. This young man was Hugh Mer- 
cer, then an assistant surgeon in the Highland 
army. 

The horrors of the next day are known to you. 
It was Scotland's second Flodden field. The blood 
of her best and bravest sons was poured out like 
water, the Prince for whom their blood was gene- 
rously shed became a proscribed wanderer, and 
his followers, those who escaped the carnage of 
that dark day, and the bloody penalties of the 
British law, like their Prince, were forced to seek 
in exile their only sure immunity. 

Early in the following year Mercer bade Scot- 
2 



10 

land an eternal farewell, and embarked at Leith in 
a vessel bound to Philadelphia. Of the circum- 
stances of his emigration and arrival, nothing is 
known except that he left his native country in 
consequence of his participation in the rebellion, 
and that he settled on what was then considered 
the western frontier of this province near the pre- 
sent village of Mercersburg in Franklin county. 
Tradition has not told us the motives of this then 
remote and secluded residence, nor do we know in 
what occupation, or with what aim, Mercer was en- 
gaged, till we find him a captain in the Provincial 
forces which were raised on the breaking out of the 
French and Indian war of 1755. 

The brief experience of irregular military life 
acquired in Charles Edward's enterprise was of 
value to a frontier settler, whose life was one of 
constant vigilance and exposure For a series of 
years prior to the continental w^ar, the Indian tribes 
on our western frontiers, stimulated by the artifices 
of French emissaries, were making constant ag- 
gressions on the settlements. The aid of the me- 
tropolitan government had been invoked and af- 
forded, and Braddock's ill-starred enterprise had 
shown the inefficacy of the proud discipline of regu- 
lar warfare against savages, whose defiance of dis- 



li 

cipline seemed to be the secret of their strength. 
From the Susquehanna to the Alleghany the un- 
broken forest was tenanted by hostile tribes, and 
scarcely a vsun went down upon the settlements 
without the glare of some burning village, and the 
shrieks of women and children arising to break the 
gloom and silence of the night, until at last the 
colonial Legislature, harassed beyond endurance by 
these repeated inroads, determined to raise an ade- 
quate force, and by the vigour of their own arms 
give security to their citizens. 

The victorious result which ensued is worthy of 
especial remembrance here, not only on account of 
its important consequences, but because it was 
achieved wholly by Pennsylvania arms. A bat- 
talion of three hundred men was organised and 
equipped, and despatched under the command of 
Colonel John Armstrong to penetrate the Indian 
country, and strike a decisive blow on one of their 
most remote and important positions. 

The leader of this enterprise was one of the most 
remarkable men of his time. To fearless intrepidity 
of the highest cast, there was united in his charac- 
ter a strong sense of religious responsibility that 
rarely blends with military sentiment. He be- 
longed to that singular race of men, the Scottish 



12 

Covenanters, in whom austerity was a virtue of high 
price, and who in the conflicts to which persecution 
trained them, never drew the sword, or struck a 
mortal blow, without the confidence which enthu- 
siasm seemed to give them, that agencies higher 
and stronger than human means were battling in 
their behalf, and that their sword, whether blood- 
less or bloody, was always " the sword of the Lord." 
Educated in these sentiments, John Armstrong 
never swerved from them. He was foremost in his 
country's ranks, whether her cause was defence 
against a foreign foe, or revolt against oppression — 
in the colonial conflicts as well as in the war of the 
revolution. He was always known to kneel in 
humble devotion and earnest prayer before he went 
into battle, and never seemed to doubt in the midst 
of the battle's fury that the work of blood was sanc- 
tified to some high purpose. Under this leader did 
young Mercer — for a common sympathy at least on 
this soil united the Jacobite and the Cameronian — 
fight his first American battle ; and it was in the 
arms of the son of this his ancient general, that he 
was carried mortally wounded from the bloody- 
field of Princeton. 

The enterprise of the Pennsylvania troops in 
1756, was one of peculiar interest. They marched 



13 

from Fort Shirley to the Alleghany river, through 
a country known to be hostile, and reached the 
Indian town of Kittaning, within twenty-five miles 
of the French garrison of Fort Duquesne, without 
the enemy being aware of their approach. The 
troops were immediately about the dawn of day led 
to the assault, and after a short and bloody conflict, 
in which most of the principal Indian chiefs were 
killed, and nearly every officer of rank among the 
provincials wounded, the town was carried by storm 
and utterly destroyed. 

During the assault, Mercer was severely wounded, 
and being obliged to retire to the rear of the column, 
in the confusion incident to such warfare, he be- 
came separated from his men on the retreat, and 
found himself on the night of the battle, alone and 
wounded, and obliged to regain the settlements with 
no other guidance than that which nature gives to 
the solitary wanderer — the stars of heaven and the 
winter garb of the forest. In the official report 
made by Colonel Armstrong is the following return : 
•' Captain Mercer's company — ^himself and one man 
wounded — «even killed — himself and ensign are 
missing." But the spirit of the Scottish soldier, of 
one who had witnessed more ghastly scenes of car- 
nage, and encountered worse perils than the forest 



14 

threatened, in the flight to Inverness when Christian 
savages tracked their flying victims, did not sink ; 
but though alone, faint with loss of blood and with 
a shattered arm, after reposing for a few hours on 
the field of recent conflict, he commenced his deso- 
late pilgrimage. For days and weeks did he 
wander through the forest, dependent for suste- 
nance on its roots and berries, until at last striking 
the waters which empty into the Potomac, he was 
enabled, when exhausted nature seemed just about 
to sink, to reach Fort Cumberland. 

On the reorganisation of the provincial forces in 
1758, when the daring spirit of the great man at the 
head of the English ministry seemed to be infused 
into every branch of the public service, Mercer, pro- 
moted to the rank of a lieutenant colonel, accompa- 
nied the army of General Forbes, and being present 
at the reduction of Fort Duquesne, was left by the 
commander in chief in charge of that important 
post. It was on this expedition that he became ac- 
quainted with Washington, then a colonel in the 
Virginia line, an acquaintance which soon ripened 
into intimacy, and exercised so vast an influence on 
his future career. How perilous a trust was con- 
fided to Colonel Mercer, and how faithfully and 
successfully he discharged it, may be inferred from 



15 

Washino-ton's ominous declaration in a letter to 
Governor Fauquier, in December, 1758. " The 
general has in his letters," says he, " told you what 
garrison he proposed to leave at Fort Duquesne, 
but the want of provisions rendered it impossible 
to leave more than two himdred men in all ; and 
these must I fear abandon the place or perish. Our 
men left there are in such a miserable condition, 
having hardly rags to cover their nakedness, and 
exposed to the inclemency of the weather in this 
rigorous season, that sickness, death and desertion, 
if they are not speedily supplied, must destroy 
them." Mercer maintained the post and remained 
with the garrison till it was relieved, when he re- 
tired from the service, and having permanently 
fixed his residence at Fredericksburg, in Virginia, 
resumed the practice of his profession. 

We now approach the opening of the great chap- 
ter of American History. 

The repose which the colonies enjoyed between 
the peace of 1763 and the beginning of the revolu- 
tion, was short and restless. The young Nation 
lay, not in the slumber of exhaustion, but in the 
fitful sleep which the consciousness of a great futu- 
rity allows. It slept too with arms bj'' its side, and 
there needed but the trumpet's feeblest note to 



16 

arouse it to action. The involuntary concord of the 
Colonies at the outbreak of the Revolution is one of 
its most singular characteristics. It was a concord 
that transcended all mere political relations — it was 
beyond and above all political union. It was the 
instinctive appreciation of common right, the quick 
sense of common injury. There seemed to be but 
one frame, and when the hand of tyranny was 
rudely laid on a single member, the whole system 
quivered beneath the contact, and braced itself to 
resistance. 

The three great colonies, Virginia, Massachu- 
setts and Pennsylvania, differing in manners, habits 
and opinions on most topics, on this of resistance 
knew no discord ; and the signal had scarcely been 
lighted at Lexino^ton and Bunker Hill, when an 
answering fire started upwards from the shores of 
the Potomac. 

The battle of Lexino^ton was foug^ht on 19th 
April, 1775, and on the 25th, six days later, the fol- 
lowing characteristic letter was written to Colonel 
Washington, then by common consent regarded as 
the leader of all the Virginia forces, should she 
raise the standard of revolt. It is dated at Fre- 
dericksbursf. 



■ 17 

''By intelligence received from Williamsburg it 
appears that Captain Collins of his majesty's navy 
at the head of fifteen marines, carried off the pow- 
der from the magazine of that city on the night of 
Thursday last, and conveyed it on board his vessel 
by order of the governor. The gentlemen of the 
independent company of this town think this first 
public insult is not to be tamely submitted to, and 
determine with your approbation to join any other 
bodies of armed men who are willing to appear in 
support of the honour of Virginia, as well as to se- 
cure the military stores yet remaining in the maga- 
zine. It is proposed to march from hence on Sa- 
turday next for Williamsburg, properly accoutred 
as light horsemen. Expresses are sent off to inform 
the commanding officers of companies in the adja- 
cent counties of this our resolution, and we shall 
wait prepared for your instructions and their assist- 
ance. 

Hugh Mercer. 

George Weedon. 

Alex'r. Spottswood. 

John Willis." 

On the 29th the volunteers of Albemarle, for 
the chivalry of Virginia w^as all in arms, sent 
3 



18 

Washington a letter to the same efFcit, bearing 
the names of Gilmer, a name honoured then and 
honoured now, of Lewis, and Marks. Its postscript 
was, "We shall stand under arms till we have 
your answer." 

Ill June, 1775, George Washington was chosen 
Commander in Chief, and early in the followiug 
year the American army then being in the neigh- 
bourhood of New York, Colonel Mercer received 
from Conoress his commission as a Brioadier 
General. It is not improbable that his services 
were solicited at this juncture at the instance of 
Washington himself, as it appears from his corre- 
spondence, that the Commander in Chief repaired to 
Philadelphia to concert with Congress plans for the 
organisation of the army, and that he remained 
there until the day after the date of Mercer's com- 
mission, and those of two others of his most valued 
friends.* General Mercer soon left, and for ever, his 
peaceful home, his young wife and children, and 
joined the army at New York. 

And now before approaching the closing scenes 
of an eventful life, let me for an instant pause, and 

* Joseph Reed as Atljutaiit C4eneral, and Steplien Moylan as 
Colonel. Their cnmmissionp are dated the .samr day as Gene- 
ral Mercer's— June 5th, 1776. 



19 

speaking to you, citizens of a peaceful age, to you 
soldiers of a peaceful land, to you ministers of a. 
peaceful faith, let me ask you to think, and think 
gratefully, of the contrast of the even tenour of your 
lives to those who earned the blessings which 
makes your life a life of peace. For them there 
was no prosperous industry such as yours, no 
steady pursuit, no systematic economy. The frame 
of society was dislocated. The cloud of civil war 
hung low upon the land, and if a ray of sunlight 
victory sometimes broke forth to cheer the earth, it 
was answered by a lurid flash from dark masses 
impending elsewhere. There was no rest in the 
Revolution, and the gentle dawn of a peaceful Sab- 
bath rarely brightened on the Christian heart. The 
only prayer which rose to Heaven was the prayer 
of the armed sentinel. Yet man, American man, 
repined not — home was abandoned — families sepa- 
rated — tVie husband and father left his fireside with- 
out a murmur. The selfish sentiment of this day, 
that the first duty of a citizen is to himself and his 
own interests, no one then dared avow. The native 
hue of resolution was sicklied with no pale cast of 
those poor thoughts which make even the virtue of 
God's ministers a cloistered virtue. That voice 
which we have all heard in the trembling accents of 



20 

extreme old age at a peaceful altar, spoke from the 
pulpit boldly to the men of the Revolution, and ut- 
tered within the walls of Congress the prayer of 
humble confidence to the God of righteous battles. 
To a Jesuit from St. Omers, was confided a public 
trust which he faithfully and gratefully discharged. 
The most eloquent man after John Adams and 
Patrick Henry in the old Congress, was a Scottish 
Presbyterian divine, Vv^hose intellect, strengthened 
in the fierce polemics of a Glasgow synod, had full 
sway and vast influence in the anxious delibera- 
tions of revolutionary council. And there is yet 
amongst us, one of the few whom time has left, a 
venerable man, a minister of religion, of that com- 
munion in one of whose temples I am now speak- 
ing, on whom age has fallen gently and the record 
of whose memory is rich with recollections of the 
sacrifices which the revolution exacted and re- 
ceived.* No monastic scruple kept these men 
from the performance of their public duties. 

The tale of those endurances and sacrifices has 
yet to be written. Our military and civil history 
is studied and understood, but how few are there 
who know any thing of that household story of 

* The Rev. Ashbel Green. 



21 

self immolation and devotion, which, as a moral 
theme, makes the chief value of the revolution's an- 
nals. There is many a rich tradition, — the yet un- 
written story of those who, like Mercer, never from 
the commencement of the struggle left their coun- 
try's service, generous and unrewarded men who 
devoted their prime of life as he did, and with bro- 
ken spirits and disappointed hopes lay down in 
early graves. And rich indeed wall be our recom- 
pense if the solemn ceremony of this day shall give 
vigour to the interest that America should feel 
in her early history, and new life to the great prin- 
ciple of republican loyalty which binding us to- 
gether by veneration of a glorious ancestry, is the 
Republic's best security. The flag of the Nation is 
the shroud of the Nation's heroes. Its happy stars 
shine brightly o'er their graves. 

Let me now return to the closing scene of our 
buried soldier's life. 

The first campaign in which General Mercer 
participated in the continental service, was crowd- 
ed with incidents of high interest. It immediately 
preceded the great change in our military policy 
which made the war one of offensive enterprise, 
and to no one more than to him is that change 
attributable. The battle on Long Island, the retreat 



22 

to New York, the evacuation of that city contrary 
to the advice of Mercer, who was perhaps wisely 
overruled, and of Greene whose bold counsel it was 
to burn the city to the ground, the battle of White 
Plains, the fall of Fort Washington, the projected 
attack on Staten Island confided to Mercer, and the 
retreat through New Jersey, were the prominent 
incidents of this eventful period. Throughout it 
all, Mercer was in active service under the imme- 
diate orders of the commander in chief, to whose 
affections he was closely endeared. 

As early as the 8th of December, 1776, the bro- 
ken remains of the American army had taken their 
last desperate position on the western bank of the 
Delaware, and gloomy and perplexed vi^ere its des- 
ponding councils. A large and well appointed British 
army had driven the few troops that remained in 
service before them through New Jersey, and the 
river, rendered more formidable by the floating ice, 
appeared to be the only barrier to their further ad- 
vance. Congress, reduced in numbers, and broken 
in spirit, was losing its power of self-support, and 
Philadelphia, then the Nation's capital, seemed des- 
tined to a certain fall. 

It was at a moment like this when, in worse 
than midnight gloom, terror and perplexity seemed 



23 

to sway the mind of man, that the mliuence of 
Washington was so subUmely reahsed. The ordi- 
nary virtue of the daring soldier was thrown into 
the shade by the rarer and brighter developments 
of his character ; and Washington, at that moment 
of prevalent despair, himself desponding in spirit, 
but outwardly calm, collected and resolute, the re- 
cipient of rash and timid counsels, the guardian ol" 
a broken and dispirited army, the supporter and 
best counsellor of Congress, who, in this moment of 
extremity threw all the duties of a sinking state on 
him, is as fine a spectacle as the history of the world, 
ancient or modern, can exhibit. 

The annals of the Revolution have no period of 
gloom like this. Evil counsels and insubordination 
aggravated Washington's just solicitude. Phan- 
toms and realities alike perplexed the public mind. 
On the 10th of December he wrote to General Lee 
a letter of almost desperate supplication to induce 
him w'ith his troops instantb^ to join the main body 
of the army, and on the 14th, relying on its success, 
he intimated in a letter to Governor Trumbull his 
intention, if Lee joined him, to make an offensive 
movement on the enemy. On the day before, Lee, 
then stationed at Basking Ridge, wrote to General 
Gates a letter, strongly characteristic of his ill 



24 

regulated minci, and of that spirit of morbid jealousy 
which was his ruin. " If I stay in this province I 
risk myself and army, and if I do not stay the pro- 
vince is lost for ever. I have neither guides, caval- 
ry, medicines, money, shoes or stockings. Tories 
are in my front, rear, and on my flanks. The mass 
of the people is strangely contaminated ; in short, 
unless something turns up which I do not expect, 
we are lost. Congress has been weak to the last 
degree. As to what relates to yourself, if you think 
you can be in time to aid the general, I would have 
you by all means go. You will at least save your 
army. It is said the whigs are determined to set 
fire to Philadelphia. If they strike this decisive 
blow the day will be our own, but unless it is done 
all chance of liberty in any part of the globe is for 
ever vanished." 

The ink was scarcely dry upon this letter when 
Lee was made prisoner in his quarters by a party 
of British dragoons, and the hopes of the Com- 
mander in Chief of his co-operation entirely frus- 
trated. 

The situation of Philadelphia at this dark hour, 
it is not easy for us in this peaceful day to realise. 
A British frigate and sloop of war were at anchor 
within the Capes of the Delaware, and large bodies 



26 

of Hessian and British troops were encamped 
within a few miles in New Jersey. " It was 
just dark," says a military traveller who witnessed 
the desolation, "when we entered Front street, 
and it appeared as if we were riding through a 
city of the dead. Such was the silence and still- 
ness which prevailed, that the dropping of a stone 
would have been heard for several squares, and the 
hoofs of our horses resounded in all directions." On 
the 12th and 13th December, General Putnam, 
then in command at Philadelphia, issued his memo- 
rable orders, which tell a ghastly tale of popular 
alarm. 

" The late advances of the enemy oblige the 
General to request the inhabitants of this city not to 
appear in the streets after ten o'clock at night, as 
he has given orders to the picket guard to arrest 
and confine all persons who may be found in the 
streets after that hour. Physicians and others, 
having essential business after that hour, are directed 
to call at head quarters for passes. 

" The General has been informed that some weak 
or wicked men have maliciously reported that it is 
the design and wish of the officers and men in the 
continental army to burn and destroy the city of 
Philadelphia. To counteract such a false and scan- 
4 



26 

dalous report he thinks it necessary to inform the 
inhabitants who propose to remain in the city, that 
he has received positive orders from the honourable 
continental congress, and from his excellency Gene- 
ral Washington, to secure and protect the city of 
Philadelphia against all invaders and enemies. The 
General will consider any attempt to burn the city 
as a crime of the blackest dye, and will, without ce- 
remony, punish capitally any incendiary who shall 
have the hardiness and cruelty to attempt it. The 
General commands all able bodied men who are not 
conscientiously scrupulous about bearing arms, and 
who have not been known heretofore to have enter- 
tained such scruples, to appear in the State House 
yard at ten o'clock with their arms and accoutre- 
ments. This order must be complied with, the 
General being resolutely determined that no person 
shall remain in the city an idle spectator of the pre- 
sent contest who has it in its power to injure the 
American cause, or who may refuse to lend his aid 
in support of it, persons under conscientious scruples 
alone excepted." 

Nor was Congress free from the infection of that 
hour of alarm. The published proceedings indi- 
cate the gloom which oppressed its deliberations. 
The secret resolves, as communicated to General 



27 

Washington, show at once the uncertainty of their 
counsels, and the far reaching sagacity of him whose 
conduct Congress professed to regulate. On the 
1 1th of December Congress passed a resolution de- 
nouncing as scandalous a rumour which was then 
current, that they intended to leave Philadelphia. 
It was communicated to Washington, with a re- 
quest that it should be published to the army. On 
the 12th he wrote to Congress, declinino^ to accede 
to their request, and frankly saying, that in his 
judgment such a resolution and its publication were 
alike inexpedient. And on the next day Congress 
resolved to adjourn precipitately to Baltimore, and 
conferred on Washington full and unlimited powers 
to conduct the war as he pleased. 

What secret thoughts, what hidden despair op- 
pressed the mind of Washington, it is difficult to 
conceive. His letters, private and official, breathe 
the spirit of calm and abiding confidence, that the 
cause of liberty would yet prosper, though the 
means by which the result was to be achieved were 
unseen. " Our little handful is daily decreasing by 
sickness and other causes ; and without aid, with- 
out considerable succours and exertions on the part 
of the people, what can we reasonably look for or 
expect but an event which will be severely felt by 



28 

the common cause, and will wound the heart of 
every virtuous American, the loss of Philadelphia." 
In a letter to his brother on the 18th, he says, " I 
have no doubt but General Howe will still make an 
attempt on Philadelphia this winter. I foresee 
nothing to prevent him a fortnight hence, as the 
time of ail the troops except those of Virginia, now 
reduced almost to nothing, and Smallwood's regi- 
ment of Marylanders, equally as low, will expire 
before the end of that time. In a word, if every 
nerve is not strained to recruit the new army with 
all possible expedition, I think the game is nearly 
up. You can form no idea of the perplexity of my 
situation. No man ever had a greater choice of 
difficulties, and less means to extricate himself from 
them. But under a full persuasion of the justice of 
our cause, I cannot entertain an idea that it will 
finally sink, though it may remain for some time 
under a cloud." 

It was at this desperate crisis, when hope seemed 
dead, that in the American camp the suggestion 
was made to change the policy of the war, and make 
a sudden movement on the detached outposts of the 
enemy, then scattered carelessly through New Jer- 
sey, from Brunswick to Trenton. With whom thi» 
plan originated, history has not precisely ascertained. 



29 

If, as is most probable, it was the counsel of despair, 
it may have had its origin in many a brave but des- 
ponding spirit. Certain it is, that it received its 
best encouragement from the success of an appeal 
made to the volunteers and militia of Philadelphia, 
who, to the number of more than 1500 men, marched 
to the camp near Trenton. At their head was that 
honoured band whose hereditary pride makes them 
this day the especial guardians of our buried sol- 
dier's dust. 

As early as the 14th Deotwiber the idea of an at- 
tack seems to have suggested itself to the mind of 
the Commander in Chief, but to have been de- 
pendent on a junction with General Lee, then 
supposed to be in the rear of the enemy, but 
who was really their prisoner. A living witness,* 
in a letter written to me within a few days, 
thus ascribes this movement. " Two or three days 
after we had crossed the Delaware there were 
several meetings between the Adjutant General and 
General Mercer, at which I was permitted to be 
present ; the questions were discussed whether the 
propriety and practicability did not exist of carrying 
the outposts of the enemy, and ought not to be 

* General, then Major, Armstrong, an aid of General Mercer. 



30 

attempted. On this point no disagreement existed 
between the generals, and to remove objections in 
other quarters it was determined they should sepa- 
rately open the subject to the Commander in Chief, 
and to such officers as would probably compose his 
council of war, if any should be called. I am sure 
the first of these meetings was at least ten days be- 
fore the attack on Trenton was made." On the 
18th news of an intended attack were current in 
Philadelphia,* and on the 21st General Greene 
wrote from camp to the Governor of Rhode Island, 
that he hoped that an attack would soon be made. 

On the next day the adjutant general. Colonel 
Reed, than whom no one possessed more of the con- 
fidence and affection of the Commander in Chief, 
wrote from Bristol a letter of urgent solicitation 
which no doubt expressed the sentiment of a large 
portion of the officers of the army, and indicated 
Trenton or its immediate vicinity as the best point 
of attack. t Such suggestions thus urged by his 
most valued friends — by Greene, by Mercer, and 



* 18th Great numbers of country militia coming in to join 

General Washington's army. News that our army intend to cross 
at Trenton into the Jerseys, — Christopher Marshall's Diary, p. 
122. 
t See Sparks's Washington, vol. iv. p. 542. 



31 

Reed, met with a ready response in the breast of 
Washington, and the plan of attack was soon con- 
certed. The Philadelphia and New Jersey troops 
were to cross the Delaware below, while the main 
body of the army — if such a phrase be applicable to 
a remnant so meagre — under Washington, Mercer, 
and Sullivan, crossing above Trenton, were to at- 
tack the enemy there. But even then the hope of 
a successful issue seemed desperate ; and two days 
before the battle, Washington wrote to Robert Mor- 
ris in a tone of deep solicitude — " For God's sake 
hurry on the clothing to my suffering men. Leave 
no arms or valuable papers in the city, for sure I 
am that the enemy wait for two events alone to be- 
gin their operations on Philadelphia. Ice for a 
passage over the Delaware, and the dissolution of 
the poor remains of my debilitated army." 

On the night before the battle, Washington wrote 
his last letter to the commander of the Philadel- 
phia troops. "The bearer is sent down to know 
if your plan was attempted last night, and if not, to 
inform you that Christmas day at night, one hour 
before day is fixed for our attempt on Trenton. For 
heaven's sake keep this to yourself as the discovery 
may prove fatal to us ; our numbers, sorry am I to 
say, being less than I had any conception of, but 



n 

necessity, dire necessity may, nay must, justify an 
attack. Prepare your men and attack as many of 
their posts as you possibly can with any prospect 
of success. I have ordered our men three days 
provision and their blankets, for if we are success- 
ful, which Heaven grant, we shall push on." 

The issue of that enterprise need not be told. It 
turned the tide of war and gave an impulse to 
popular feeling which was in strange contrast to 
previous despondency. Amid the darkness of a 
winter night did Washington lead the remnant of 
his shattered army on this desperate enterprise, 
and a brief and bloody conflict terminated in a 
glorious victory. The column of attack operating 
on the main street leading from Princeton, was 
commanded by Mercer, and became the most effi- 
cient in obstructing the retreat of the enemy.* 

* In a manuscript in ray possession ia the hand writing of Gene- 
ral Reed, is the following statement, " Colonel Rhal who com- 
manded the Hessians at Trenton, and was mortally Avcunded in 
the affair of the 26lh, died on the 27th, and his papers being 
brought to me, it appeared that he had received notice of the in- 
tended attack from General Grant at Princeton, which was very 
exact as to time, though mistaken as to circumstances, supposing 
it to be a detachment under command of Lord Stirling. How- 
ever there was so much information as would have put a prudent 
commander on liis guard. Nor in this did he altogether fail, but 
an accident wholly baffled his vigilance. A scouting party, 



33 

It would be inappropriate for me to trace in 
detail the military operations that immediately fol- 
lowed the victory at Trenton. It was no sooner 
won than the American army with their prisoners 
recrossed the Delaware and resumed their former 
position. Here they remained till the ^Qth when 
offensive operations were renewed. General Wash- 
ington again entered New Jersey, and the British 
army advanced in full force, the advance parties 
being at Trenton, to recover the ground they had 
lost. 

On the night of the 2d January, 1777, the 
American camp was the scene of anxious council. 
The panic which the unexpected blow at Trenton 
inspired had subsided, and the British army in 
full force had resumed their position, and looked 
forward to the next day for the consummation of 
their revenge. A small creek alone separated the 
two armies. Each seemed in deep repose, and the 
sentry of either camp as he paced his weary round 

returning from the Jerseys to Pennsylvania, fell in with the Hes- 
sian picket and gave the alarm about two hours before the real 
attack was made. This being mistaken for the attempt mentioned 
in General Grant's letter, threw them into greater security than 
ever. The storm also induced them to get under cover, and lay 
aside their arms, especially as the day was considerably advanced 
before the attack began." W. B. R. 



34 

looked out upon the watchfires of the enemy burn- 
ing brightly and steadily, and felt assured that the 
presence of a vindictive or desperate foe ensured 
a bloody day to-morrow. Night had scarcely 
closed before a council of war was held by the 
Americans, and anxious attention bestowed on the 
only two questions then deemed worth considera- 
tion, whether a retreat were advisable, or whether 
the attack of a superior force should be encoun- 
tered on this a field of recent victory. Each 
seemed alike desperate — the difficulty of their po- 
sition was too apparent, the overwhelming force of 
the enemy rendered defence impracticable, and an 
almost impassable river, at least to an army in 
hasty retreat^ in their rear, closed all avenue to 
escape. Then it was that Mercer threw out the 
bold idea that one course had not yet been thought 
of, and this was to order up the Philadelphia mili- 
tiai, make a night march on Princeton — attack the 
two British regiments said to be there under Les- 
ley, continue the march to Brunswick, and destroy 
the magazines at that post. " And where," was 
Washington's question, "can the army take post at 
Brunswick — my knowledge of the country does 
not enable me to say ?" It was then that General 
Sinclair gave a full and clear description of the 



35 

hilly country between Morristown and Brunswick, 
and the ni^ht march as suggested by Mercer was 
after brief discussion agreed to without dissent. 
Each officer hastened to the head of his corps and 
before the dawn of day the brilliant manoeuvre 
thus suggested, gloriously for his conntry, fatally 
for himself, was successfully executed. 

The night was dark and intensely cold. There 
was no moon, but the stars were watching from a 
cloudless sky the doings of that midnight hour. 
Sleep had begun to steal over th^ tired soldier of 
either army, but the steady eye of watchful disci- 
pline, the experienced ear that so easily detects a 
hostile movement, whether of attack or retreat, 
slept not. The British generals sure of to-mor- 
row's victory, watched closely the camp of the 
Americans. The sound of the party working on 
the entrenchments at the ford was distinctly 
heard — the watchfires burned brightly and fresh- 
ly, the sentinels were plainly seen marching 
steadily and silently, and all seemed well. The 
rebel victim was safe within the toils. But as the 
gray of the dawn was visible, and the first note of 
the British reveille was sounded, no answering 
drum was heard. A moment of expectation, and 
still no echo to the soldier's call- — all was silent as 



36 

the ofrave — till suddenly there burst forth the 
strange sound of winter thunder in the British rear, 
"What can that firing be?" is said to have been 
Lord Cornwallis's anxious and incredulous question. 
"My Lord," was the prompt reply of Sir William 
Erskine, "it is Washington at Princeton." 

In that night march, to him who had suggested 
the movement was entrusted the command of the 
advanced party. As the day broke a large body of 
British troops was discovered apparently in march 
to Trenton, and after pausing to confer with Wash- 
ington, who arrived on the field in a short time, the 
bold design was formed and executed by Mercer, of 
throwing his brigade between the enemy and their 
reserve at Princeton, and thus forcing on a general 
action. The movement was carried into effect. 
The fall of Colonel Hazlet, mortally wounded, at 
the head of his men, threw them into momentary 
confusion, and General Mercer's horse being killed 
by the enemy's fire, he was left alone and dis- 
mounted on the field. Disdaining to surrender, and 
indignant at the apparent confusion of his men, he 
encountered, single handed, a detachment of the 
enemy, and being beaten to the earth by the butts 
of their muskets, w^as savagely and mortally stabbed 
by their bayonets. The struggle of that day was 



37 

as brief as it was bloody, and with the loss of man}^ 
of the bravest officers; of Hazlet, of Shippen, of 
Fleming, of Neal and Mercer, the American troops 
remained in possession of the field so hardly won. 

With the story of victory I have nought to do. 
My duty is to the dying soldier. Within a short 
time, Major Armstrong, the general's aid, found him 
lying bleeding and insensible on the field. He w^as 
removed to a neighbouring farm, where he lingered 
in extreme suffering (the house being alternately 
occupied by British and American parties) till the 
12th January, when, breathing his last prayer for 
his young and helpless family and his bleeding 
country, he expired in the arms of Major George 
Lewis, a fellow citizen of his beloved Virginia, and 
nephew of Washington. 

Nor was his dying bed a bed of utter desolation. 
The house whither the wounded soldier was car- 
ried was tenanted, during that day, Ijy two delicate 
females, who, wearing the garb and professing the 
principles of peace, were too brave to fly from the 
field of battle, or the bed of death. While the con- 
flict raged around their humble dwelling, these two 
tender, helpless women, lost no confidence in the 
protection which the God of innocence rarely with- 
holds — and when the dying warrior was brought to 



38 

their threshold and left beneath their roof, their 
ministering charities were ready to soothe his soli- 
tary anguish and smooth the passage to the grave. 
One of these American women of better times has 
died near Princeton within the last few months, 
aged upwards of ninety years. It was part of her 
household story that she had watched the death bed 
of a soldier of the Revolution.* 

On the 14th of January the remains of Mercer 
were brought to this city, and on the next day but 
one were interred in the grave from which we have 
this day removed them. 

There are aged men yet amongst us — so aged 
that before the brief remnant of this year expires 
the generation may cease to live, who remember the 
solemnity of that funeral. It was the Nation 
mourning for her first child. It was a people in 
sad amazement that a gallant citizen had indeed 

* It appears that on the 15th, General Washington was not ap- 
prised of Mercer's death, for on that day he wrote from Morris- 
town to Colonel Reed. " When you see General Mercer be so 
good as to present my best wishes to him and congratulations, if 
the state of his health will admit of it, on his recovery from death. 
You may assure him that nothing but the confident assertion that 
he was either dead, or within a few minutes of dying, and that he 
was put into as good a place as I could remove him to, prevented 
my seeing him after the action and pursuit at Princeton." — 
MS. leder, I5th Jan. 1777. 



39 

died for them. And when the ancient inhabitants 
of this city thus gathered in throngs to bear the sol- 
dier's mangled corpse to its place of rest, it was 
committed to the ground with the sacred service 
which bade them look to the promised day when 
" the earth and the sea shall give up their dead." 
The grave thus solemnly closed has been unsealed 
— affectionately, reverently, piously. — But yet upon 
the solemnities of this day, the reproach of a vain 
and profane pageant may fasten, if the mouldering 
remains of the dead can be placed in the midst of 
the living without stirring every heart to its very 
centre. 

When in the turmoil of an ancient war, the 
affrighted attendants upon a burial thrust their 
burthen into the nearest sepulchre, the remnlnt 
glory which radiated from a prophet's bones gave 
life again to the cold and senseless corpse. But 
God's providence over man is not to be traced in 
miracles alone, for he has so framed the human 
heart that the visible presence of the heroic dust of 
a patriot martyr shall animate the lofty and spiritual 
emotions which too often are suffered to sleep and 
die. 

There is a deep import in the commemorations 
which unite the living with the dead. 



40 

The first obsequies performed by our forefathers, 
more than sixty years ago, over the body of Mercer, 
with its death wounds fresh and bloody, taught to 
a struggUng people the lesson of patriotic martyr- 
dom. When we, their children, assemble for these 
new obsequies, the blood which was poured from 
those wounds has long since mingled with the earth 
— 'the blessings which it earned have been enjoyed 
by generation after generation, and not vainly will 
these solemnities pass away if their memory shall 

lead 

'« to confident repose 
In God, and reverence for the dust of man." 



A P P E N D I X . 



A 

No apology is necessary for the publication of the following 
letter. It has high and peculiar interest, and has never before 
appeared in print. 

General Washington to Robert Morris. 
Camp, above the falls, at Trenton, Dec. 22, 1776. 
Dear sir, — Your favour of yesterday came duly to hand, and 
I thank you for the several agreeable articles of intelligence 
therein contained ; for God's sake hurry Mr. Mease with the 
clothing, as nothing will contribute more to facilitate the recruit- 
ing service than warm and comfortable clothing to those who 
engage. Muskets are not wanted at this place, nor should they 
or any other valuable stores, in my judgment, be kept in Philadel- 
phia, for sorry I am to inform you, my dear sir, that unless the 
militia repair to the city for defence of it, I see no earthly pros- 
pect of saving it after the last of this instant ; as that fatal vote 
of congress respecting the appointment of new officers has put 
the recruiting business upon such a footing, and introduced so 
much confusion into the old regiments, that I see no chance of 
raising men out of them ; by the first of next month, tlien, we 

6 



42 

shall be left with five regiments of Virginia, one of Maryland, 
Col. Hand's, and the remains of Miles's, reduced so much by 
sickness, fatigue, &c. as in the whole not to exceed, but fall 
short of 1200 men. Upon these and the militia is all our de- 
pendence ; for you may as well attempt to stop the winds from 
blowing, or the sun in its diurnal, as the regiments from going 
when their term is expired. 

I think with you, sir, (that however missed you may be in 
congress), your presence in the city cannot be dispensed with. 
I will give you the earliest information in my power of immedi- 
ate danger ; in the meantime I advise, for the reasons before 
mentioned, that you detain no papers that you can possibly do 
without — for I am satisfied, the enemy wait for two events only 
to begin their operations upon Philadelphia. Ice for a passage, 
and the dissolution of the poor remains of our debilitated army. 

Gen. Sullivan is just come up with the troops under Gen. 
Lee, about 2000 men. Gen. Gates is here, and a small division 
under him of about 600 expected to-day ; this, with about four or 
five-and-twenty hundred at most, here, before, compose the 
strength of my army, (the city militia excepted,) but this under 
the rose. 

Alas, poor Lee ! taken by his own imprudence ! We have no 
distinct account of him : if any should arrive, Mr. Tilghman or I 
will communicate them to you. Insults accompanied the taking 
of him ; since that I have heard that he was treated well by Lord 
Cornwallis, to whom he was first carried. 

The commissary (Mr. Wharton) informs me that he cannot 
prevail on the millers to grind, and that the troops in consequence 
are like to suffer from want of flour ; this, if I understand him, 
proceeds either from disaffection or an unwillingness to take con- 
tinental money in pay, which in fact is the same thing; this must 
be remedied by fair or other means. 

With sincere regard and esteem, 

I afti, dear sir, 

Your most obedient, 

G. Washington. 



43 

B 

On the 31st January, I77t, congress passed the following 
resolution. 

Resolved, That a committee of four be appointed to consider 
what honours are due to the memory of the late General Warren, 
who fell in the battle of Bunker's Hill, 17th June, 1775 ; and 
of General Mercer, who died, on the r2th instant, of the wounds 
received on the 3d of the same month, in fighting against the 
enemies of American liberty, near Princeton. 

The members chosen : Mr. Rush, Mr. Heyward, Mr. Page, 
and Mr. S. Adams. 

April 8, 1777. — The committee to whom it was referred to 
consider what honours should be paid to the memories of Gene- 
rals Warren and Mercer, brought in a report which, being read, 
was agreed to as follows : — That a monument be erected to the 
memory of General Warren in the town of Boston, with the 
following inscription : — 

In honour of 

Joseph Warren, 

Major General of Massachusetts Bay. 

He devoted his life to the liberties 

Of his country, 

And, in bravely defending them, fell 

An early victim, 

In the battle of Bunker's Hill, 

June 17, 1775. 

The Congress of the United States, 

As an acknowledgement of his services 

And distinguished merit, 

Have erected this monument 

To his memory. 

That a monument be erected to the memory of General Mer- 
cer, at Fredericksburg, in the State of Virginia, with the follow- 
ing inscription : — 



44 



Sacred to the memory of 

Hugh Mercer, 

Brigadier General in the army of 

The United States. 

He died on the 12th of January, 1777, of the 

Wounds he received, on the 3d of the same month, 

Near Princeton, in New Jersey, 

Bravely defending the 

Liberties of America. 

The Congress of the United States, 

In testimony of his virtues and their gratitude, 

Have caused this monument to be erected. 

That the eldest son of General Warren, and the youngest son 
of General Mercer, be educated from this time at the expense of 
the United States. 



LBJl'26 



